


Deep Trouble

by the_pr0n_account



Category: The Last Vampire Series - R. A. Steffan and Jaelynn Woolf
Genre: Aquaphilia, Bathtub Sex, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Breathplay, Collars, Consensual Kink, Edgeplay, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Power Exchange, Predicament Bondage, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Rope Bondage, Succubi & Incubi, Underwater Sex, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Vibrators, Water Bondage, Water Sex, Waterbondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_pr0n_account/pseuds/the_pr0n_account
Summary: “Honestly, if your nipples weren’t poking up like a pair of diamond drill tips, I’d worry that you weren’t even enjoying yourself. But, I suppose this must be fulfilling some sort of underlying psychological need to prove your worth via the medium of obstinance.” Rans paused. “Either that, or you have a hidden breath-play kink.Doyou have a hidden breath-play kink?”Zorah narrowed her eyes at him. “Shut up. Maybe I’m just really pissed off at you for acting like a twelve-year-old bully at the public pool.”“Maybe you are.” He smirked and leaned back, reaching behind himself with one hand. “One way to find out, I suppose.”* * *Spoiler: Yeah, Zorah totally has a hidden breathplay kink. And a hidden aquaphilia kink. And a hidden predicament bondage kink. Meanwhile, Rans has a not-so-hidden Zorah kink, and is more than willing to indulge her.Shameless PWP springboarding from THAT scene inThe Last Vampire: Book Four.
Relationships: Ransley Thorpe/Zorah Bright
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags, please. Kids, don't try this at home.

I'd just had the most intense sex of my life, and all I could think about was how soon we could do it again.

Being a second-generation succubus hybrid was turning out to be trickier than I'd imagined… which was saying something, since I hadn't exactly assumed it would be a cakewalk. Ransley Thorpe—my vampire lover and part-time white knight with tarnished armor—was doing his best to help turn a twenty-six-year-old waitress with self-esteem issues into a badass part-demon warrior. But it hadn't been a smooth road so far, and it was likely to get bumpier from here.

Sex, though, was something where I thought we might be making progress. And, yeah, I wanted more of that shit. I wanted _all the kink_.

“Tell me something… was this whole elaborate setup a case of a vampire trying to train a succubus to be more trusting, using sex?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

He tossed aside the belts that he'd used to bind me in the bathtub, metal buckles clinking against the marble floor. His blue eyes regarded me frankly as he started massaging my knees and calves, working out the kinks from being bent double for so long.

“Among other things, perhaps,” he said, in that delicious English accent that could still make my toes curl. “Why? Do you think it’s working?”

I prodded at a little oasis of mental serenity, which seemed to have appeared within the disorganized turmoil that usually defined my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I said slowly, not sure quite how to feel about the idea. “God help me. I… kind of think it might be.”

"Good," he replied. "Because there are deeper levels of _bad_ and _wrong_ that I could explore with you if necessary,"—he raised an eyebrow—"but frankly, I'm not sure you're up to them."

I couldn't tell if he was teasing or not as I lay in the warm embrace of the jetted tub, regarding him. "Uh… you just tied me up and forced me to swallow your cock underwater. And you're telling me you've still got levels of 'bad and wrong' in reserve?"

He scoffed, easing himself back to sit at the other end of the massive bath—our legs tangling together. "I didn't force you to do anything, love. You had several options. You could have played along like a good submissive and avoided getting dunked in the first place. You could have used the safeword or signal, and stopped the game altogether. Or, you could keep pushing me, knowing that I would punish you each time. You chose the last option, blatantly and repeatedly. And you enjoyed it."

Not for the first time, I was glad of the way my dusky skin hid a blush. Because, yes. Yes, I certainly had.

"So, tell me what you'd have done next, Mr. Kink Expert," I said, neatly avoiding any admittance of enjoyment. _As if the screaming orgasm hadn't already given it away…_

He huffed out an amused breath, and slicked back the too-long fringe of dark, wet hair that had flopped across his face. "Planning round two already, eh?"

I lifted my chin, shocked to feel a surge of fresh arousal when I'd been sure I was completely wrung out already. Ah, the joys of succubus blood…

"Maybe I am," I told him. "Why don't you come over here and convince me?"

Rans smiled his shark's smile, and slid around to ease behind me in my end of the tub, his legs bracketing my hips. "Lean forward." He gathered my wrists together at the small of my back, and freed one of the lengths of rope from earlier, using it to tie them together. Then, he pulled me to lie against him, sliding me down until the back of my head rested against his unbeating heart.

Water lapped over my chin and tickled my earlobes. I shivered in his arms, remembering the helpless feeling each time he'd pressed me beneath the surface with a gentle finger on my forehead, as I lay bound beneath him earlier. One of his hands settled over my right breast, his thumb idly stroking the nipple to hardness.

My eyes slipped closed. I relaxed into his loose hold, giving myself over.

"Go on," I told him. "Tell me a sexy story about all the terrible things you could do to me." A bit of water splashed into my mouth, and I spit it out.

"Hmm," he mused. "I think I'd enjoy tying your wrists to your ankles. You're certainly flexible enough for it, yoga-girl. That, and a tight leather collar. Something wide enough that you could pull against it without injuring yourself. And finally, a nice, waterproof remote-controlled vibrator. One of those C-shaped ones, I think—the kind with simultaneous clit and G-spot stimulation."

I made a low noise of interest, pressing my breast further into his hand.

"I'd put you on your back in a dry tub," he continued, "and turn on the water so it could start filling while I nipped down to the gym to get a barbell weight. I expect a fifty pound one would do the job admirably. That, and a bungee cord."

I craned around to shoot him a questioning look. "A bungee cord?"

He wrapped a hand in my wet curls and used the grip to put me back where I'd been, facing front, and perhaps a tiny bit lower in the water than before. His fingers pinched my nipple in silent reproach. When I gasped at the sharp flare of sensation, more water flooded my mouth.

"If I put the weight behind your head and looped the bungee through it, I could hook the ends to your collar, you see. It would limit how far you could stretch your head up without being pulled straight back down. At that point, it mostly becomes a matter of getting the water level _just_ right."

"Jesus Christ." My heartbeat sped up as I pictured it.

"At first," he said, "there wouldn't be much for me to do except enjoy the show. You could try keeping your head above the surface for a while, I suppose, but eventually it would become too tiring. Much easier to take a little rest on the bottom, and only strain for the surface when your lungs start to complain."

His hand continued to knead my breast idly.

"Of course, each time, the water would be a little deeper. It would take a bit more effort to get your nose and mouth above the surface, and the collar would choke you a little more as the bungee pulled you back down. You'd have to start exhaling on the way up, because there won't be time to do more than suck in a breath before you're under again. Then it will be half a breath. Then less. There will come a point when you estimate wrong, and get pulled up short with your air bubbling away, the surface just out of reach."

I was trembling now, hanging on his words. He slid down another inch in the tub, his hand still tangled in my hair. Water covered my lips and poured into my left ear. I could see the tiny ripples on the surface as my breath puffed in and out through my nostrils. A small whimper of excitement escaped me.

"When that happens, you'll have to regroup… go back to the bottom with empty lungs and try again. You'll probably make it the second time. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing, after all. You might even make it the next time, too, strangling yourself on the collar as you go. But then, it will be too late. No way to make it to the surface; trapped underwater with no more air. That will be my cue to turn off the water, I suppose. And because I'm a terribly nice person, I'll even open the drain for you. If you can hang on for a bit, you'll be able to lunge up and drag in a gasp before the water closes over you again. At which point, the level will be exactly where I want it, and then we can begin."

Then _we can begin?_ I thought incredulously. _Jesus. Fucking. God._

I'd have said it aloud, but it would only have come out as bubbles. Instead, I squirmed restlessly, and got another pinch on the nipple for my troubles.

"I suppose I'll have to unhook you for a minute at that point, so you can get your breath back," he mused. "Otherwise, the fun part won't last very long. When you've recovered and sucked in a nice, big lungful of air, I'll take you down and hook your collar to the weight again."

I wriggled harder, and managed to get my mouth above the surface. "What happens then?" I begged.

"Then?" he echoed. "Why, then I turn on the vibrator."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, we hear Rans' ideas for the vibrator. Spoiler: they are evil ideas. Evil, I tell you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zorah really likes it when Ransley describes kinky sex in painstaking detail. Like… REALLY likes it.

"The thing about breathplay," Rans said, "is that it tends to intensify sexual response. The more desperate you are for air, the more you feel everything else. Say that someone else was controlling when you got stimulation and when you didn't. Say that they would only let you have it when you were lying quietly on the bottom, holding your breath."

He pressed me down, the water washing over my nose and mouth for a moment before I managed to strain up and get my nostrils clear.

"As soon as your head touches the bottom, I turn on the vibrator. But the moment you decide breathing is more important than coming and try to get to the surface, I turn it off. I might decide to let you get air, or I might decide to block you and put you back on the bottom… just to make things a bit more interesting. But as long as you're fighting to get to a breath, no vibrator. As soon as you give in and settle back, you can have it again."

The hand in my hair pressed me down, water rising up to cut off my breathing for a few seconds. My sex pulsed, aching for attention.

"I'll be curious to see how you prioritize the two things," he said clinically. "Though I daresay I can hazard a guess."

His fingernail scraped over my pebbled nipple, and I made an undignified mewling noise.

"Whatever the case, before too long, you'll start to come. And knowing you, once you start, you'll keep coming… over and over. You'll get tired. You'll spend more time on the bottom, because getting air is too difficult. And as a result, you'll come even harder. You'll forget to time your breathing properly, or misjudge what it takes to reach the surface. Eventually, you'll panic, and I'll have to unhook you and drag you up to cough up half of the bathtub. Probably still coming the whole time."

I was breathing through my nose in little huffing pants by that point, tugging fitfully at the rope around my wrists. I pressed my thighs together and rocked my hips, desperate for some kind of relief.

But the bastard wasn't even done yet, damn him.

"As you can imagine, watching all of this will have me hard as a rock." He said it conversationally, like this was the kind of thing people discussed every day. "As soon as you've recovered a bit, I look forward to ripping the vibrator out of you, shoving you down to the bottom, and holding you there by the throat while I fuck you until I'm satisfied."

I barely had enough warning to drag in a full breath as he rolled my head, using his grip on my hair to press me under. Water crept sideways over my face, covering it. He pushed me deeper until only my right ear was above the surface, my left cheek pillowed on his thigh.  
I held my breath, water stinging as it crawled up my sinuses… knowing it would be up to him when I got my next breath, and loving it.

"Needless to say," he said, "you won't be coming up for air until I'm finished. The way I see it, you have a couple of choices. You can try to save your strength and wait me out, or gamble that having to hold you down while you struggle will turn me on and make me come faster. Both approaches have merit, I suppose. It will probably depend how good a show you can put on."

My lungs burned as he finished his little speech, but not as much as my sex throbbed and ached. I bucked, trying to reach the surface, and he held me in place effortlessly. A plume of bubbles trickled free of my nose and mouth.

"You'll come for me just from this, won't you?" he asked, sounding a bit surprised.

I bucked again, a bit more desperately this time—a fresh burst of air escaping. Water slopped over my right ear, cutting off everything except my own thundering heartbeat. His other hand was still on my breast. Clever fingers closed around my nipple and pinched sharply.

I came hard, gasping out the rest of my air.

A quick tug brought me to the surface, where I whooped in a ragged breath, my body still clenching around nothing. "Fuck," I gasped. " _Fuck_."

I shuddered in Rans' supportive grip, coughing a bit as I cleared my airways.

"Well," he said, once I'd gotten my breath back and lay sagged against him. "If it's that easy, I'm not sure we need the full trappings—enjoyable though they are to contemplate."

I blinked up at him. "Oh my god. Yes, we do. We _really_ fucking do. Tomorrow, okay?"

His chest moved beneath me—silent laughter. "Good lord, I've created a monster. Very well, my little submissive-in-training. If helplessness and sexual torture to the point of hypoxia is what your inner succubus desires, helplessness and sexual torture to the point of hypoxia I shall attempt to deliver."

"Damn straight," I muttered against his chest, my eyes slipping closed as exhaustion overcame me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's as far as I've written ahead, and unfortunately I have deadlines looming for the perfectly respectable and boring shit that I write professionally for money. I'll continue on with this as I'm able, and we'll see how the reality stacks up to the over-the-top fantasy. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fantasy vs. reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set on the cruise ship during _The Last Vampire: Book Five_ , after Zorah pegs Rans.

As it turned out, the following day—and the days that followed—were taken up by running, fighting, and trying very hard not to freak out when my grandfather Guthrie ended up nearly dying, only to be turned into a vampire instead.

It was non-stop train ride to Crazytown until the three of us finally managed to escape the demon Myrial by sneaking onto a private cruise ship, surrounded by miles and miles of demon-repelling saltwater in the Caribbean. Thanks to the vampiric ability to mesmerize humans into compliance, our stint as stowaways was spent in a couple of high-end staterooms, rather than huddling behind crates in the cargo hold. It was at this point that I figured out we'd basically gatecrashed a private ocean-going sex party for rich people, based on the fact that most of the women were professional escorts… and that the shopping mall on the cruise ship included a startlingly well-stocked adult toy store.

It had been more than a little disconcerting to see Rans struggling to hold his shit together as the circling dangers pressed in on us, ever closer. Guthrie was, thankfully, past the worst of the bloodlust all new vampires suffered. He'd sent us away for the night, claiming the need for some time alone to think. in the privacy of our stateroom, I'd managed to fuck some of the stress out of Rans' body with the help of a strap-on, combined with succubus sexual stamina. But I'd awoken from sleep not long afterward, still a ball of nerves.

Rans woke moments after I did—a bit bleary-eyed, but no longer with that frantic edge of darkness that had been surrounding him for the past few days.

"Still can't sleep?" he murmured.

I shook my head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. It's just… you know. Thoughts and worries buzzing around my head like flies."

Sympathy lit his ice-blue eyes. "I'm somewhat familiar with the phenomenon, yes." He stretched languidly, miles of pale skin and lean muscle on display. "I've got something that will help with that, actually. Since you so kindly assisted with turning my brain off for a bit earlier."

I closed my eyes, filled with sudden longing at the idea of letting it all go for a while. "Yes, please," I told him. 

Cool lips closed over mine, and I surrendered to the kiss, just as he'd surrendered to me earlier. He pulled away after a few seconds, his fingertips stroking along my temple and cheek. "Give me a few minutes to set up."

With that, he slipped out of the massive bed and began moving around the room. He must have snuck in a few purchases of his own at the sex shop, because I could hear him rummaging in the shopping bags. Then, he disappeared into the en suite bathroom, and I had the first inkling of what might be on his mind. My stomach tightened with anticipation at the idea we might be about to pick up where the demon in California had so rudely interrupted us.

He returned a few minutes later, still naked, entering the golden pool of light cast by the bedside lamp. I didn't have much time to appreciate the view. He took my hand and urged me upright, leading me into the palatial bathroom. The tub in the expensive suite was sunken—not to mention large enough for four people, if they didn't mind getting friendly.

Assuming that nakedness would be required, I reached behind me with the intention of unhooking the black bra I'd fallen asleep wearing. Rans' voice stopped me.

"No, leave it," he said.

I gave him a questioning look, but he only smiled and turned me to face the mirror above the vanity, where a small pile of items awaited. He removed a wide band—black vinyl, or maybe patent leather, and reached around to buckle it onto my neck.

A collar.

My heart beat faster. I had no doubt he could hear my blood throbbing past the snug pressure of it.

"Hmm. That's a good look for you," he mused.

He'd worn a similar collar for me before, on those handful of occasions when he'd been teaching me to feed my succubus side from a crowd at BDSM clubs. Somehow, I doubted he'd been as affected by it as I currently was.

What else did you buy?" I asked, a bit hoarsely.

His lips curled into a sensual smirk. "Oh, all the necessary trappings. Never fear." He lifted the pair of red stiletto heels I'd been wearing the previous evening. "Put these on."

I raised my eyebrows. "In the bath?" I asked, not sure if I'd misunderstood what was about to happen here.

"Humor me," he said, a wry twist to the words. "I can always get you another pair."

I shrugged and put them on, gaining a few inches of height that put us nearly at eye level. It felt a bit weird to wear nothing but a collar, a bra that was basically two scraps of lace held together by thin straps, and a pair of fuck-me red heels, but the gaze Rans slid over me was appreciative.

"Very nice. Now, into the tub with you. Lie on your back."

I took a steadying breath and did as instructed, heels clicking against the tile floor. There was a bit of water in the bottom of the bath—not deep yet. It lapped at my ears, blood-warm, but didn't cover them when I lay back. I arranged my legs wide, knees bent, heels braced on the bottom of the tub… not above putting on a bit of a show. It felt transgressive, getting the expensive red leather shoes in the water like this.

Rans made a low noise in his throat, and his velvet voice made me shiver. "Stay right there. I just need to throw on some trousers and nip off to the gym on this level. Get yourself off while I'm gone, pet."

"God, you're depraved," I told him.

He shot me a wolfish grin, a hint of fang poking out. "You love it, my little sex demon."

There wasn't really anything to say to that except, _Well, duh_. He left, and I contemplated the bathroom ceiling as my hands wandered across my body. In Rans' absence, though, I could already feel the worries that defined my life these days creeping back in. When he returned and approached the tub, I was stroking absently between my legs, no closer to an orgasm than when he'd gone.

"No joy?" he asked, seeming to intuit the cause of my problems with a glance. "Not to worry. We'll get there. And get there… and get there… and get there, I suspect."

"Sorry," I told him.

His lips twitched. "No need to apologize. You'll make it up to me before long."

At that point, I finally noticed that the item he was carrying casually beneath one arm was, in fact, a barbell weight—a realization which did wonders for distracting me from my circling thoughts. "Wow. So, we're really doing this, huh?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, indeed. Unless I hear 'yellow' or 'red' for a safeword, or unless you start pulling animus from me as a nonverbal safe signal, you're shortly going to find yourself in a rather dicey predicament."

Rans crouched by the sunken tub and directed me to sit up while he placed the the weight where my head had been. I felt the tub vibrate as he set it down; it was obviously heavy. Bracing myself on an elbow, I watched with fascinated trepidation as he looped a length of colorful bungee cord through the hole in the center, wrapping it around the outside edge and threading it rough the center a second time. The metal-hooked ends floated free, only a few inches long.

"There we are." He disappeared again and came back with one of the extra pillows from the bed, which he placed over the barbell weight to cushion it, fishing the bungee ends out from beneath.

I stared at the waterlogged rectangle of foam. "The cleaning service is really going to love us."

He snorted. "I daresay they've seen much, _much_ worse. They can add it to our bill."

"We're not paying," I pointed out.

"Precisely," he agreed. "Now, down you get."

I shook my head at him, but obeyed. It was comfortable enough with the squishy pillow between my head and the barbell weight. My heart rate started to pick up again when Rans fumbled beneath my neck, hooking both ends of the cord to the metal dee on the collar.

"Lift up," he ordered. "Carefully, mind."

I stretched up, my abs tightening, and made it a few inches before the collar tightened across my throat.

"Bit more," he said, so I cautiously strained a little farther until I was on the edge of choking. I was, I noted with a little rush of adrenaline, still considerably below the lip of the tub. The tug of the bungee dragging at the collar as I eased back down was disconcerting.

I cleared my throat and swallowed. "That's it," I told him. "That's as far as I can go."

"Splendid," he said. "Onto the next step."

The next step turned out to be a vibrator of the kind he'd threatened me with in California. It was light blue and C-shaped, fitting snugly against my pelvis when Rans lubed it up and slid the thicker arm inside my pussy. The thinner, flatter arm nestled against my clit, making me feel full and on-edge.

" _Argh_ ," I said, feeling breathless before we'd even gotten started.

He laughed. "Just wait until I turn it on, love. You don't know when you're well-off."

He lifted my legs one at a time and slid the matching black lace panties onto me to hold it in place—the same ones I'd shed the previous evening when the strap-on had come out to play. I could imagine how I looked, lying collared in the tub with my lingerie and high heels.

After that came the rope. As promised, he bound my right wrist to my right ankle and my left wrist to my left ankle, my arms stretching along the outside of my tightly bent knees. It wasn't uncomfortable… not for someone in serious physical training who also had a background in yoga. But damned if it wasn't restrictive, considering how little rope was actually involved.

"All right?" Rans asked, running his hands along my inner thighs and making me shiver.

"All right," I confirmed. "Except for the part where I'm about to crawl out of my skin, I mean."

"Just one more minor detail to go, and then you're ready," he said, producing a small piece of curved plastic from his pants pocket. It took me a moment to identify it as a swimmer's nose clip.

I made a noise of disdain. "You know we used to make fun of those things on swim team."

"Non-negotiable this time around, love," he replied firmly. "If we revisit this game in the future, we can discuss it then."

I shrugged as much as I could with my restrictive bonds, and let him place it on me, the springy ends squeezing my nostrils shut. When he straightened away, I stuck my tongue out at him.

He made a noise of dry amusement. "And with that—you're on your own for the next little while. I'll just be over here with the remote control to your vibrator, enjoying the show and making notes regarding how long you can hold your breath before panicking."

"Asshole," I told him, wriggling a bit to try and find a better position as warm water started crashing into the tub at the far end.

"Have fun, pet," he said, a moment before my ears filled up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how long _do_ we think Zorah can hold her breath?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathplay is serious bizness. Also, physics are a pain in Zorah's ass.

The water was loud in my ears as the huge tub filled. At first, there was really nothing to do except lie there, waiting for my situation to get more alarming. Rans was out of my line of sight, so I craned up to try and see where he was. I caught a glimpse of him leaning over before he straightened and returned to the edge of the tub.

He was naked now, holding a small remote control in one hand as promised. His grin was unrepentant as he settled himself on the rim and set the remote aside in favor of fisting his cock with lazy movements as he watched me wriggle, the water rising around me.

One of his legs trailed into the tub, his foot braced on the bottom. This gave me a clear view of what he was doing—at least until the water closed over my eyes. I could feel a a warm swell of arousal—his or mine, it was so hard to separate them these days. The vibrator shifted inside me when I flexed my hips—a tease, but not nearly enough friction to get me off.

Already, I could feel the muscles in my neck and core protesting the effort of craning up to keep my face clear of the water. That was probably bad; I was going to need those muscles a lot more later on. I breathed in, not sure how deep the water would be when I settled back. It closed over me, just barely cutting me off from the air above.

After a few moments, I blinked my eyes open, but everything above the silvery surface was an indistinct blur. I lay there until the earlier strain in my muscles had eased a bit, and stretched up for a breath. It wasn't difficult… yet.

The water continued to crash into the basin of the tub, pleasantly warm. I felt unaccountably sexy like this—a damsel in ever-growing distress, fuck-me red stilettos braced against the bottom of the tub… stripped to my lacy underwear and bound in a vulnerable position by the villain of the piece.

At first, I kept up an easy rhythm for breathing. Stretch up, breathe out, breathe in, relax on the bottom for a slow count of ten, and repeat. After weeks of intensive physical training, I was in the best cardiovascular shape of my life, and I suspected I could have kept up that pacing for some time. That lasted until, as predicted, the water got so deep that I couldn't hold myself at the surface for more than a second before the elastic cord tugged me back down. I hadn't taken into account that there was nothing for me to brace against. Once the pull of the bungee grew stronger than the weight of my lower body, my legs floated up and my head went down.

On the positive side, this meant there really was no way for me to accidentally hurt my neck by fighting the collar. On the less positive side, it meant that I could either exhale or inhale at the surface, but not both. Things… started to go downhill rapidly from there.

For a while, I was able to do what Rans had said—exhale my air on the way up and grab a gasping breath before being pulled back down. But I didn't dare empty my lungs completely, and soon that gasp of breath was being cut off way too soon. I began to feel lightheaded, though it wasn't a completely unpleasant sensation. I wondered what I must look like as I slowly succumbed to my predicament. The noises I was making sounded increasingly desperate to my own ears; wheezing half-breaths cut off with a gurgle.

And then I misjudged, my lips brushing a chaste kiss against the surface without breaking through, air bubbling away to nothing. I pursed my lips and lunged up harder… a second time… a third. But Rans had been overly optimistic about adrenaline lending me extra strength. All the determination in the world couldn't give me leverage where there was none to be had. I clamped my mouth closed, suddenly glad of the ridiculous nose clip. My heart pounded in a staccato rhythm.

The sound of water running into the tub stopped abruptly, replaced a moment later by the sound of an open drain.

_Count to five. Try again. No need to panic._

I counted, and tried again. So close… but no. Panic threatened after all. I reached for Rans' animus with my magic, ready to pull on the invisible thread running between us. Before I could, a hand cupped the back of my head and lifted me to the surface, stretching the bungee farther than I could manage on my own. The collar pulled tight across my throat as I sucked air past the constriction.

Water continued to pour down the drain. Rans lowered me along with it, until the pull against the collar was tolerable again. When I'd taken a couple of deep, minimally restricted breaths, he removed his support and I slid to the bottom again. The sound of draining water stopped abruptly. I gathered myself and stretched up, exhaling some of my lung contents as I went. Sure enough, my nose and mouth broke the surface for a second this time—long enough to grab a breath and sink back down again.

Fucking… _fuck._

I was exhausted and waterlogged and a bit freaked out. I was also turned on like a hundred-watt light bulb. Fingers probed at the nape of my neck and I felt a tug. Then Rans was lifting my upper body, the collar no longer hooked to the weight. My wrists were still bound to my ankles, but he pulled me into a sitting position resting between his legs, both of which now trailed in the tub as he sat on the edge. A hand swept wet hair away from my face before removing my nose clip as I panted.

"All right?" asked the familiar English tenor—sounding somewhat distant through the water still trapped in my ears.

"Oh, god," I managed breathlessly.

The fingers returned to stroking my hair. "Is that a good 'oh, god' or a bad 'oh, god'? I felt you reaching for my animus at the end."

I swallowed a couple of times and let my head fall back. "That's a 'give me a couple of minutes to recover and then turn on the fucking vibrator before I lose my mind.'"

He snorted softly. "Glutton for punishment, just like I've always said."

"Fuck you. Give me orgasms."

He reached down and pinched a nipple. "Give yourself orgasms, if you've got the lungs for it. I'm just the bloke with the remote and the raging hard-on."

"Deal," I told him. "You know I love a challenge."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Either one or two more chapters to go. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The main event, part one.

After a couple minutes of rest, I no longer felt lightheaded. I did, however, still feel horny enough to start dry-humping (wet-humping?) Rans' leg if he didn't get a move-on with the damned vibe.

"I'm ready," I said, scooting awkwardly away from his support.

He retrieved the nose clip, which I now had to acknowledge was, in fact, a good idea under the circumstances. "Remember," he said, once it was in place, "you can try for a breath whenever you like. And if I decide you're going too easy on yourself, I may exercise veto power until I feel you'll be a bit more appreciative of the oxygen. Safewords are likely to be a bit dicey, so use the nonverbal signal when you've had enough."

"All right," I managed in a nasal tone, my nostrils squeezed shut by the clip. I could feel every square millimeter of the damned vibe against my flesh, promising a level of sexual intensity I'd never experienced before.

"Deep breath," Rans said, and that was all the warning I had before his hand closed over the collar and pressed me down.

I sucked in air as the water closed over my face, and held it as he reached beneath me to hook the bungee in place. Then, his hands left me. I wriggled in place for a moment, getting settled as best I could with my head resting on the waterlogged pillow cushioning the heavy weight that held me trapped. Then, I stilled.

A strong buzz started up between my legs, shocking in its intensity. So shocking, in fact, that my lungs emptied in a plume as I cried out. I lunged for the surface, and the buzz quieted instantly, leaving my body echoing like a struck gong.

"Fuck!" I gasped the word, and the water closed over me before I could get any kind of reasonable breath. This… was going to be interesting. I reached the bottom and immediately stretched up again, focusing more on getting air and less on cursing this time.

Lungs more or less full, I settled back—mentally bracing myself this time. The vibe started up, no less intense the second time. Bubbles forced their way free of my control in a trickle this time, rather than a lung-emptying rush.

_Jesus, Mary, and Joseph… fucking son of a bitch… motherfucking SHIT…_

I cursed silently and fluently as my entire pelvis vibrated. It was the kind of 'too much' that would absolutely turn into heaven on a stick in a while—if I didn't drown first. I lay on the bottom, too focused on the wildly overpowering sensations to even try to count seconds or heartbeats or whatever. All I knew was that it got gradually better and better, and just when it was starting to get really, _really_ good, I realized between one instant and the next that I was out of air.

For a third time, I lunged for the surface. The vibe turned off, the sudden absence of stimulation almost as shocking as the stimulation itself had been. My cut-off gasp sounded more than a little desperate, and we were barely getting started. I could have used more air than I'd gotten—like, _really_ could have used it—but I could also use the damned vibe being turned on again.

So I settled back, and tried not to lose control of my lungs when I got exactly what I wanted. Fucking _hell_ , that thing was strong.

I'd lost some progress up the steep path leading to orgasm, but it didn't take long for my body to switch gears again. I was going back and forth between instinctive fear of drowning and wild sexual need, which was probably what Rans had intended all along with this scene. It was dizzying… and that was before you factored in the hypoxia.

Again, my lungs demanded relief before my pussy got the relief it needed. I stretched up, a bit more controlled this time, bubbling my lungs empty so I could suck in a full breath in the tiny slice of time before the bungee cut me off.

I thought if I could keep up this general pattern, I'd be able to come after another breath or two. I needed it badly—almost as badly as I needed to breathe. I could feel my blood rushing through my veins, trying to make up for the lack of oxygen in my system. I would pace myself, I decided. I could draw this out in such a way that it wouldn't deplete my stamina for a while.

That plan worked for the next breath. I lay on the bottom afterward, lungs full, and felt myself growing closer to orgasm. One more trip to the surface, I decided. Then I'd probably come. I recognized the approaching plateau—pleasure just short of climax that would stretch for longer than I thought I'd be able to hold my breath before I tumbled over the edge.

With this strategy in mind, I stretched up, letting my air bubble out as I did.

A hand closed over my mouth without warning and pressed me down to the bottom, pinning me there. Adrenaline jolted through me. The vibrator buzzed to life, and I bucked, unable to do more than that with my wrists and ankles bound, and no leverage. Wild excitement warred with panic when it became obvious that the hand wasn't going to let me up.

I jerked and twisted, my stomach muscles fluttering with the need to breathe. The realization of my total helplessness swirled together with the unrelenting buzz against my clit and g-spot to wrench a violent orgasm out of me. My body arched and twitched, clamping rhythmically around the toy inside me while the hand clamped over my mouth kept me from inhaling water.

He made me ride it out on empty lungs, too, the bastard—only turning off the toy and lifting me to the surface when my body started to go limp. He supported me there with a hand beneath my neck, the collar stretched snug against my windpipe as I wheezed for breath.

And then he let me sink beneath the surface again.

My heart was thudding wildly, but my mind and muscles were lax with afterglow. When the vibrator started up again, I couldn't help the tiny moan that disappeared toward the surface in a trail of bubbles. It was too much… just right… delicious torture with my nerves still throbbing and oversensitive. In a shockingly short period of time, I felt myself getting close again; my lungs burning.

When I stretched up, I was half-convinced I'd encounter an unyielding hand stopping me. This time, though, the vibrator turned off and Rans allowed me to gasp in a breath under my own power. I returned to the bottom, my body trembling in reaction as the vibration started up. The orgasm came in a slow wave, dragging my thoughts under as surely as the elastic cord dragged my body under with each snatched breath.

I exhaled beneath the heavy weight of rolling pleasure, knowing I needed to move, but wanting to extend it for as long as possible. When I finally stretched up, the whoop of my gasping breath was a sound of pure desperation. I stretched up a second time, and a third, and a fourth, before I finally felt able to settle back.

This time, the sensation of the vibrator humming to life was firmly on the 'too much' side. I made myself lie still beneath it anyway, knowing that somewhere beyond 'too much' lay an entire undiscovered country of sexual response. When I needed to breathe, I stretched up. Rans let me have the first few breaths before thwarting me once… twice… then letting me up for a single quick gasp and blocking the next one.

The uncertainty and loss of control catapulted my body into a deeper level of surrender, succumbing to the siren song of the vibe once more. Rans must have sensed it, because his hand circled my neck, pressing lightly to keep me on the bottom until I came a third time. My lungs emptied under the force of the release, and he lifted me for a single breath without turning off the stimulation this time. It was so much… so good… I was already coming again when he settled me back on the bottom. Or maybe I'd never stopped.

I could feel my pussy clenching with hard pulses around the toy; feel myself squirting clouds of hot come into the bathwater. My lungs burned, the lack of air unimportant as the orgasm dragged on and on, until suddenly it _was_ … and I was too weak to do anything about it. Instinctively, I clutched at Rans' animus, probably pulling too hard in the grip of my disorientation.

Instantly, I was at the surface and the toy was turned off. The air caught in my lungs. I coughed a bit, still unable to spare much thought for anything beyond the incredible feeling of crushing pleasure that seemed to have leeched every ounce of strength from my body. I didn't think I'd ever be able to move again.

A familiar body slid into the tub and arranged me to lie back in a steady embrace. I let my head loll against Rans' collarbone, slotting neatly into the space at the juncture of his head and shoulder.

"All good?" his voice rumbled. I could feel his hard length nestling cool at the small of my back.

The noise I made was in no way a word. Nor was it terribly communicative as nonverbal groans went.

"One tug for yes, two tugs for no," he suggested.

I let my eyes slide closed and tugged once on the thick coil of his arousal connecting us through the ether.

"Splendid," he said, and began to stroke me with slow fingers, caressing my face, breasts, and stomach while I purred like a contented house cat.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... and, we're done. Or at least, Zorah is. ;)

We lay there for long enough that Rans reached around to run hot water into the cooling tub until it was pleasantly warm again. The thick cock pressing into my back didn't wane, but Rans didn't mention it or otherwise draw attention to it.

Eventually, when I no longer felt like a limp, waterlogged ragdoll, I deliberately arched against it. I felt his hips flex in response, though the hands stroking me never wavered in their slow rhythm.

"Recovered already, then?" Rans asked with thinly veiled amusement.

"No," I told him. "Still wrecked. Fuck me anyway. Make me take it."

I was still floating in a sea of endorphins, my body buzzing with understated lust as the words slipped free.

Rans exhaled against my back. "Oh, my little vixen. The things you do to me. Very well, but you'll need to trust me and not struggle for this last part. You can fight me and lose another day… but not now, when you're already exhausted."

I nodded, still lost in sexual la-la-land. "'Kay."

His hand slid over my stomach, one finger hooking the crotch of the lace panties aside so he could ease the vibrator out of me. I shuddered at the sudden emptiness. Then he was sliding out from behind me, rearranging us. I saw him settle the pillow in place over the weight that had held me down, but he didn't retrieve the ends of the bungee from beneath it.

"Deep breaths," he warned, supporting me onto my back with his body cradled between my spread thighs. He braced himself with one hand, the other cradling the back of my head to hold me above the surface.

I breathed deeply—in and out, in and out—wriggling my hips to try and line him up to enter me. The crotch of my panties was still shoved to one side. Cool lips closed over mine, swallowing my gasp as his silky length pressed in. I was only vaguely aware of the weight of the kiss pressing me beneath the surface. When his lips left mine, though, the hand that had been supporting me circled my throat instead, and pushed me down to the bottom with an uncompromising grip.

My head settled on the pillow, and he pinned me there. I arched beneath him as hips rolled, pumping his length into me with an unhurried rhythm. On some level, I knew he could last forever at this pace. But he'd said to trust him; he'd said not to struggle. Fighting back against him and losing had turned out to be one of my massive kinks, but I was also—finally—learning to let go when he asked me to. I had no idea what would happen when I ran out of air while being pinned underwater and fucked, but there was only one way to find out.

I surprised myself with how long I was able to float in that mental limbo, enjoying both the feeling of Rans' cock sliding in and out of me, and the growing dissociation as my oxygen levels fell. But eventually, my diaphragm began to hitch, forcing more and more air from my lungs—first, in little spurts, and finally in a giant plume.

I was still on the bottom, still getting fucked… still pinned by the throat. I felt Rans' grip shift, and lips pressed over mine tightly, forming a seal. It was instinct at this point to open for the swipe of a tongue across the seam of my mouth; instinct to open for Rans when he demanded it. My lips parted, and air flowed into me as Rans breathed it into my lungs from his.

He was a vampire; he didn't need to breathe, except to speak. But all that meant was that the air he gifted me was fresh. Oxygenated. I pushed past the instinct that screamed at me not to inhale underwater and let it fill my lungs. Some bubbled away as he broke the kiss, but I was no longer on the cusp of drowning.

He continued like that… letting me feel the burn of empty lungs, only to fill them with a kiss at the last moment—fucking me with devastating remorselessness throughout. I don't know how long it lasted. Forever, seemingly… until the slow-building eruption that had been gathering inside boiled over, and my body clamped around his.

Lips sealed with mine, and Rans emptied himself into me, lungs and cock, his essence flooding me on two fronts. My awareness of my surroundings slipped away, leaving only warm, soft darkness. When it returned, I was on the surface, breathing deeply, my wrists and ankles freed. Strong arms held me close.

"All right, pet?" a low voice murmured.

"God, I love you," I replied, letting myself drift in Rans' steady embrace.

"I love you, too, Zorah Bright," he said, wrapping me up a little bit tighter.

I smiled, and pressed a soft kiss against the smooth skin of his chest.

_finis_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my depravity. <3
> 
> I recently pulled down some erotica that (surprise, surprise) wasn't selling—probably because this is, shall we say, a pretty specialized kink. I'm planning on posting at least some of it here, in hopes that it will end up in front of readers who are specifically looking for breathplay, wet and messy, and aquaphilia.
> 
> I'll probably do a "one chapter a week" thing, but unlike with this story, these are existing works, so you won't be waiting on me to get my writing ass in gear, LOL.


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